


Crowley and Aziraphale try BDSM a.k.a. 50 Ways To Bond With Your Husband

by dappermancer



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, BDSM, BDSM but it's kinda funny for a bit, Bondage, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, Humor, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Idiots in Love, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Ineffable Idiots (Good Omens), M/M, Not Beta Read, PWP, Rope Bondage, Self-Indulgent, Shibari, Spanking, there's a little plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-04
Updated: 2020-02-04
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:46:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22555804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dappermancer/pseuds/dappermancer
Summary: Stepping into a new experience is always a bit rough. Sometimes even things as simple as learning a new cleaning technique can send a person through all five stages of grief before the day is out. Starting something as intense as BDSM though…
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 77





	Crowley and Aziraphale try BDSM a.k.a. 50 Ways To Bond With Your Husband

**Author's Note:**

> This is entirely self-indulgent, and I have no explanation for it beyond "Lol idk I thought it'd be funny"
> 
> This is not a great representation of actual BDSM (trust me), but originally I was planning on keeping this more comedic than it ended up being.  
> Aggressively not-betad, so I apologize if things are wonky. Maybe in a few months, I'll do a Version 2 of this that's more better.
> 
> Have fun!

Stepping into a new experience is always a bit rough. Sometimes even things as simple as learning a new cleaning technique can send a person through all five stages of grief before the day is out. Starting something as intense as BDSM though… 

Sure, Crowley and Aziraphale trusted one another to a degree that was almost uncanny. They loved each other with a passion that poets can only hope to write about someday, and their love was steadfast and unwavering. Still, starting something as…  _ unique  _ as BDSM was certainly a way to test their limits and “climb the curve” as it were. 

In the past, they’d experimented with things like light bondage and spanking, but it never went over the precipice into the wild world of The Other. They never found much of a need to delve into the crazier things they’d heard about, and they were happy with that. So happy, in fact, that when Aziraphale --somewhat conversationally-- brought up the idea of honest to goodness shibari, Crowley choked on his tea.

“You mean those bloody complicated rope ties you always see on the internet?” 

The angel nodded and sipped his tea, looking nonchalant. “I just think it could be interesting. Unless you don’t want to, dear?”

Crowley had shrugged and mumbled something about giving it a try, and that’s where the conversation had ended… For about a week. 

One night, while the two of them were starting to get hot and heavy, Crowley put a finger over Aziraphale’s lips and slid out of bed with a mischievous twinkle in his eye, leaving his lover mostly confused. He returned a moment later with a black plastic bag with  _ “SENSUA”  _ written on it in curly, almost illegible cursive. From it, he produced a few lengths of shiny, soft-looking crimson rope, which he wound around his fingers. 

“I’ve uh… been looking up some ties. You want to try them and see?” The hesitation before Aziraphale’s answer seemed to put quite the damper on Crowley’s mood. “Or we could not…” 

Seeing the slight dip in his lover’s shoulders, Aziraphale made a snap decision, “Let’s do it! I mean, it’s worth a try, isn’t it?”

And so, it began.

As these things always go, the two of them decided to try to ramp things up a bit more. The rope ties got steadily more complex; the scenes went a little longer; they indulged in some hidden-away fantasies neither of them had really considered before. Late-night google searches begat new equipment for them to try, and they allowed themselves to enjoy it in a way that only they could. Aziraphale was partial to suspension play (Crowley said he was too afraid of falling); for his part, Crowley was awfully fond of sensory deprivation. Despite knowing that a simple miracle could render any ties, chains, or anything else utterly useless, the two of them always relished the occasional feeling of powerlessness that came along with the games, and of course, their safeword became “Eden”. 

  
  


“Is that too tight, dear?” Aziraphale keeps his hands on the ropes around his lover’s torso, occasionally slipping his fingers between skin and fiber to make sure they’re not cutting in too deep. 

“No,” he squirms a little, testing it out for himself. “It’s perfect, angel.”

Aziraphale chews his lip, trying not to openly preen at the little compliment. “I spent most of the past week practicing, I’m glad it’s paid off.”

The demon laughs and leans his head back against the pillows, pulling his knees up closer to his chest. “These too, or do you have other plans?” 

“I suppose you’ll have to wait and see, won’t you?” He raises an eyebrow and smirks in the way he’s seen his lover do hundreds of times before.

Despite his best efforts, Crowley breaks out laughing, eyes squeezing shut and forked tongue poking out from between his teeth, “This isn’t porn, angel! And I  _ know  _ you can dirty-talk better than that.”

Aziraphale huffs audibly and gives the ropes a sharp tug, “Well, I certainly think that’s enough from you.”

“Oh, are we starting then?”

“Yes, dear. Now,” the angel slides his hands under Crowley’s body and flips him over, making sure to tug on a few of the ties as he does so, causing his lover to squirm and groan quietly. “I want you to simply follow my directions. Can you do that for me, love?”

“Yes…”

“Yes, what?”

Crowley bites his lip and laughs low in his chest, “Yes,  _ sir _ .”

Aziraphale leans down over his demon’s back, grinding against him slightly, “I love seeing you like this.”

“A bit indulgent, hmm? Whatever would Gabriel say?”

“Well, I don’t think he’d approve either way, but luckily for us,” He lowers his voice and bites the shell of Crowley’s ear, “He's not the one in charge here.”

From his curled and tied up position, the demon does his best to grind back against the body behind him, smiling at the slight shiver the angel gives at the sudden stimulation. It’s a regular occurrence for them to switch up the power dynamic, and they both enjoy the moments when whoever’s in the “submissive” position will flip the entire session on its head, but Crowley knows now isn’t the time for that. His angel put his heart and soul into learning these beautifully complex ties just for him, and Crowley’s not about to spoil all their potential fun. 

A rough, leather paddle comes down on the demon's ass and he hisses audibly, more out of shock than pain. The gentle chuckle that comes from behind him tells Crowley that this is exactly what his angel was hoping for. They’ve never used a paddle before, Aziraphale stating once that he preferred the control that just using his hand gave him, but after they’d spotted a rather nice, somewhat expensive-looking black leather paddle in a shop, the angel had agreed to give it a try. Crowley has discovered that tonight is the night and he’s far from disappointed. 

“Was that too rough, my darling?” Comes the concerned voice of a vaguely inexperienced dominant. 

“Absolutely not, Angel,” Crowley groans. “Do it again.”

Far too pleased with himself, Aziraphale brings the paddle down hard, relishing in the way his demon lurches forward but settles back for another hit. They count the strikes together; Crowley punctuating his words with hisses and gentle moans, and Aziraphale allowing himself to get a bit rougher as they go, until suddenly… It stops.

The demon lets out a rather loud huff and wiggles his hips, hoping to entice his lover to keep their game going, but the only response he receives is a light and somewhat distracted laugh. Straining his neck to see over his shoulder, Crowley is met with the sight of his angel shirtless, looking rather bemusedly down at the remains of an £80 black leather paddle in his hands. 

“You have  _ got  _ to be joking,” The demon groans and drops his head down against the pillows.

The angel blinks and laughs again, “I didn’t think I was being quite that rough.”

“You weren’t.” Crowley (rather ungracefully) flips himself over and sits up so he can fully see what’s happening. The paddle has split completely in half in more ways than one: the flat leather part has detached itself from the handle and the stitching which made the paddle the, well,  _ paddle  _ has frayed and uncoiled, leaving the two beings with two slabs of useless leather and a stick. 

The lovers share a glance before they both fall apart laughing. Aziraphale doubles over, arms wrapped around his own stomach and cheeks turning pink, his shoulders shaking with the force of his laughter. Crowley lays back against the pillows, yellow eyes squeezed shut and arms straining against the ropes. They stay like that for a long moment, relishing in the utter ridiculousness of the situation they hadn’t thought to prepare for. 

Finally, Aziraphale sits up again, wiping the tears from his eyes, “I thought this one was from a high-end shop!”

“It was,” Crowley giggles helplessly and lolls his head to the side, “There’s 50 quid down the drain.”

“Oh no, it was much more than that, dear.” The angel crawls over the bed and settles against the pillows next to his lover, “I think it was closer to eighty.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

Aziraphale pouts inwardly, “I suppose not.”

They stay like that for a moment, both occasionally chuckling as they come down from the initial shock.

Finally, the angel sits up a bit and runs his fingers over a length of rope on Crowley’s arms, “I suppose I should untie you; the mood is quite gone now.” 

“What’re you on about?!” Crowley jerks away more violently than he meant, “We’ve barely even gotten started!”

“Well, yes, but--”

“Angel, you spent hours this week just learning how to start this tie, I’m not letting it go to waste.”

Aziraphale sits up a little straighter at Crowley’s words, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth, “Well… I suppose when you put it that way…” 

“I haven’t said ‘Eden’ yet, Zira. You know the rules.”

The angel grins and moves in close, flipping Crowley back over into his stomach and testing the ropes to make sure that none of them have come loose. With everything sorted, Aziraphale moves in close and starts to carefully press a finger into his lover, relishing in the soft sounds coming from the demon. He loves being able to do this to Crowley, loves bringing so much pleasure with even the smallest of movements. 

The demon, for his part, loves being spoiled like this. The days he gets to lay back and let his angel have his way. He shudders when soft lips come down on his shoulder.

Aziraphale has been determined since day one to become the perfect dominant to his partner. He’s taken the time and studied hard (Crowley’s found him watching porn with a notebook in hand more than once); he once even contacted a dominatrix so he could interview her. His dedication is starting to pay off.

Crowley purrs when he feels his angel start to carefully add more fingers, and he makes a mental note to bring up fisting sometime soon. Perhaps over their next trip to the Ritz. 

“How’s that feel, my dear?” Aziraphale’s voice is heavy with lust and adoration.

“Mmm~” The demon bucks his hips, “ _ So good _ .” The soft, self-satisfied chuckle he hears only spurs him on further. “More, Angel~”

That earns him a rough smack on his ass, “That’s no way to address your superior, Crowley.” His tone is deceitfully firm, and Aziraphale eternally grateful his lover can’t see the amused twinkle in his eye.

Crowley lets out an annoyed huff, “Please give me more,  _ sir. _ ”

“Good.” The angel pulls away to fully undress and moves back in close. “Do you think you’re ready for the next thing, dear?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

Without any more warning, Aziraphale fully shoves himself in, causing his demon to yelp and jolt forward. He hesitates for a moment, waiting to see if Crowley will safeword. When no such response comes, the angel begins to slowly thrust into his lover’s willing body, relishing in the quiet moans his actions elicit. Once he’s sure his demon is comfortable enough, Aziraphale picks up speed, snapping his hips as hard as he can manage. 

The demon bites his lip, attempting to stifle the whimpers that are forcing their way out of his throat. It doesn’t help. Despite his efforts, the punishing pace that Aziraphale has set is breaking Crowley down to his most primal state: seeking pleasure and wanting nothing more than to beg for it. Finally, he tosses his head back, letting out a long moan that he’s almost certain Aziraphale’s neighbors can hear.

“Please, Zira--” His voice is raw, “Let me look at you!”

Aziraphale slows his thrusts, somewhat taken aback by his lover’s sudden outburst. “You… You want me to turn you over?”

Crowley nods into the pillows, trying to stop his straining shoulders from shaking and betraying him even further. 

The angel pulls out, laughing a bit at the whine Crowley lets out, and flips him onto his back. “Is that better?”

He nods again and spreads his legs, wanting to entice his angel back into himself as quickly as possible. His prayers are answered as Aziraphale moves in close, bracing his hands on either side of Crowley’s head, and slides home. 

Crowley gasps and runs his forked tongue over his lips, yellow eyes hooded with lust as he looks upon his dearest. He strains against the ropes, wanting to run his hands over his angel and hold him close, but the small section of his brain that’s still coherent won’t allow him to ruin all of Aziraphale’s hard work. Instead, he bucks his hips against his angel’s resumed punishing thrusts, head tilted back against the pillows. 

Aziraphale leans down and starts peppering little kisses into the spaces between where the ropes are crisscrossed over his lover’s chest. He slows his thrusts ever so slightly, wanting to focus on bringing more outward pleasure to Crowley. 

“ _ Angel~” _ The demon grits his teeth, bucking his hips to meet each thrust. He twists his fingers into the ropes and cries out, positively adoring the way the ties bite into his skin. He’s starting to leak.

“You really like this, don’t you, my love?” Aziraphale passes a hand over Crowley’s body, using a tiny miracle to tighten the ropes as he goes, making his demon squirm and moan. He drops his voice an octave and leans down to bite at Crowley’s ear, “Perhaps I should leave you like this, hmm?”

The sudden confidence radiating from the angel makes Crowley practically melt. This bloody angel will be the death of him. He shudders and bucks up, wanting everything and so much more. Crowley can feel the heat drifting up from his curled toes, traveling all the way along his body before pooling in his stomach. He’s so close to coming, it’s starting to hurt. 

Aziraphale, for his credit, hasn’t stopped. Despite his somewhat docile outward appearance, the angel has insanely good metabolism that really only appears when in the bedroom. He grinds into his lover with a level of passion that surprises even himself. The angel huffs and leans down to kiss Crowley, nipping and biting at his pliant mouth. With his remaining coherency, Aziraphale wrenches himself away from his darling’s delicious mouth and picks up speed with his thrusts again, selfishly attempting to reach his own climax before his partner can. Oh, how he wants to make Crowley beg. 

As though he read the angel’s mind, Crowley’s moans and whines get exponentially louder and he forces himself to speak, allowing every sinful desire to come spilling out. “Please, Zira~! Fuck, I want you to make me come! Hurt me so I can’t walk without feeling you--” He’s tossing his head back and forth on the pillows, sweat starting to run down his shivering body. Aziraphale has seen him like this before, but it never ceases to amaze him just how far Crowley will go to make every experience so… stunning.

The words are just enough and Aziraphale shoves himself into his lover’s body one final time before shuddering and painting his insides white. Nothing can ever compare to these nights with the love of his life. Crowley letting out a soft whine snaps him back to reality. 

“Oh you poor dear, you haven’t finished yet, have you?”

Crowley bites his lip and shakes his head, not able to verbalize his needs anymore. Aziraphale slides a hand down to grip his lover’s weeping member and gives it a slight squeeze, watching how the demon squirms and moans. 

The angel laughs and tilts his head in faux sympathy, “How cruel of me to let you suffer like that.” He starts quickly moving his hand, pausing at the base each time to squeeze and watch as Crowley arches and gasps. “What if I don’t let you come, dear? Hmm?” There’s a sadistic edge to his voice that’s making the demon want to drag this out as long as possible. Aziraphale laughs and shakes his head, “No, I couldn’t do that to you. But I will make one rule: you come exactly when I say. Think you can do that for me, my love?”

The demon manages to nod, flicking his tongue out to wet his lips. He strains against the ropes, silently begging for a kiss from his partner which Aziraphale happily gives, starting his quick strokes to bring Crowley to completion. 

As he works, Aziraphale moves in close to his darling, kissing and sucking at his neck and leaving the occasional bite. He thumbs over the tip of Crowley’s member, dipping a finger into the slit just to see how much he can make the other being squirm. Finally, he leans in and nips at Crowley’s earlobe, “Come for me, my dear.”

The demon shudders and arches up, finding his release with a desperate cry. His body twists and contorts with pleasure as he rides out his orgasm, bucking into Aziraphale’s hand over and over until he finally collapses back on the bed, boneless and exhausted. 

Aziraphale breaks character as soon as he’s certain Crowley is finished. “Are you alright, dear? I’m sorry I was so rough with you; I didn’t hurt you, did I?” He quickly unties the ropes and pulls them away, sucking in a breath when he sees the red welts zig-zagging over his demon’s chest. “Oh goodness, I made them too tight, didn’t I? Next time, I’ll--” He’s cut off when Crowley puts a finger over his lips and slowly shakes his head.

“Don’t you bloody dare. That was amazing.” 

The angel blushes and looks down, “You think so?”

Crowley pulls his angel into a passionate kiss, holding him tight. “I know so. It just means we’ll have to get more creative for next time.”

Aziraphale looks relieved and lays back, opening his arms for Crowley to come and snuggle up with him, “We can discuss after we get some rest, yeah?”

The demon nods, laying his head on Aziraphale’s chest and exhaustedly pulling the ruined blankets around them. When he speaks again, his words are somewhat slurred from how exhausted he is, “Love you, Zira.”

“I love you too, my darling.” He gently kisses Crowley’s head and reaches over to turn the light off. “Sleep well.”

**Author's Note:**

> It's 2020 and I'm finishing my WIPs goddammit!
> 
> After re-reading this a few times, I don't know how "in character" this whole thing ended up being, but also it's late and I have work in the morning and I am decidedly out of spoons. 
> 
> Hope you guys liked this little disaster because I did enjoy writing it.  
> Kudos and comments are much appreciated! Have a great day/night/afternoon!


End file.
